


My Castle Crumbled

by MeeMaw



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Post S8E5, based on leaks for e6, boat baby lives, i refuse to write angst, my last act of defiance against the show, then i die
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-17
Updated: 2019-05-17
Packaged: 2020-03-06 10:47:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18849514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MeeMaw/pseuds/MeeMaw
Summary: Jon & Dany picking up the pieces in the aftermath of destruction.





	My Castle Crumbled

**Author's Note:**

  * For [OweMeOneKenobi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/OweMeOneKenobi/gifts), [TheYoungDragon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheYoungDragon/gifts).



> Thank you both for reading my ramblings & giving great suggestions, for patiently listening to my non-stop commentary about how awful all of this is and how bloody mad I am at d&d and possibly GRRM too if that's his ending as well. 
> 
> I know it sucks. For all of us - Jon fans, Dany fans, Jonerys fans. Funny how they ruined Jon and Dany's characters for some notion of shocking the audience. I expected a glorious tribute to GRRM's work, and they successfully subverted all of my expectations and then some. I never believed e5 leaks. It was too outrageous a thing to do, I thought. It did not make any sense, why would she snap now, Jon would come through, he would say something .. anything other than "you're my queen". More fool me.
> 
> There’s no going back from what has already happened in e5. So instead of brushing what actually happened on the show under the carpet, I’ll try to move past it all and see if there is something to be salvaged from under the rubble (also known as valonqar now on! I know, it was so unexpected, it blew my mind) of poor writing.
> 
> P.S. What was the point of calling it ‘a song of ice and fire’ when the end product is a dumpster fire? And I don't care for your writing ingenuity, George R R Martin, this is not bittersweet by any standards.

**My Castle Crumbled**

 

In the aftermath of destruction that has been wreaked on King’s Landing, there is an eerie silence surrounding the piles and piles of ash and rubble. Jon gathers the Northern soldiers and after warning them against any further pillaging and plundering on the pain of death, commands them to aid the common-folk in whatever way they can and to his surprise, the Unsullied join them in removing the debris; although they stayed away from the people most of whom retired to the edge of the city or left through the gates making it easier for Jon to leave them to their task. As he struts his destrier towards Aegon’s Hill, the name strikes a bitter irony in his mind and Jon decides that it is an unfortunate name. A relic of the past, a mirage that the Targaryens have been chasing since generations, the notion of glory and pride that hardly any of those who have carried that name has exhibited since the conqueror.

 

He reaches the part of the red keep where Daenerys sits atop a carved chair that has somehow escaped the wrath of the stones that have come down crashing around it. She is shivering and her hands are folded in her lap but she pulls herself up on finding him there.

 

“Greyworm, see to it that the soldiers are fed and make sure …” she hesitates, “the people of the city receive food and water as well.” She instructs the Unsullied commander and ignores Jon’s presence at what Jon gathers must have been the entrance to an opulent, royal chamber.

 

Jon notices another broken figure standing in a distance and makes his way towards him. Ser Davos stretches the ale-skin to him which Jon silently and gratefully accepts from his hand. His head has been hurting and legs are almost giving out and he finds that he feels numb and craves peace and silence and feel of a bed under his back. He knows Davos is holding a swarm of questions that Jon does not have answers to but mayhaps if he never looked into his eyes, he will not have to find those answers. Taking deep swigs of ale, Jon’s thoughts wander to what he has seen earlier in the day, the charred bones of men, women and babes, burnt homes and what was mayhaps a flourishing marketplace. He shares the rare moment of silence that has stretched too long and then stands up, resolutely making way towards Daenerys.

 

He finds her sitting in the same chair, her face void of emotions, no tears or pain or sorrow, _no remorse either,_  he thinks. There is no joy or sense of victory too and when Jon tentatively moves in her direction, she waves her Bloodriders away, allowing him to pass through the human barricade that has surrounded her.

 

He watches her for a token of heartbeats before speaking. “Your Grace,” he pauses wondering if he would ever find the right words to say to her because in his heart he realizes that he has failed her as much as her advisors and everyone else around her, “I need to know what happened today.. whenever you are ready.” _I give you my word that I won’t betray you,_ he wants to say but he does not; he _cannot_ , not yet. He waits for her to open up to him or mayhaps imprison him for his insolence but she does neither and Jon bows, wordlessly leaving her alone in the ruins of what could have been her _home_.

 

 

 

 

She writes letters in her own hands and sends them across the kingdom. Jon proposes that she find a steward but she writes and seals them and waits in the rookery until the maester she has summoned from Dragonstone has sent the raven.

 

Soon food, labor, and timber begin arriving from Reach, Crownlands, Stormlands, the Iron Islands, Westerlands and Dorne. The north and the Vale are the only kingdoms that do not send any aid and Jon wonders if Dany has even asked them for it.

 

Then one day the Unsullied informs them of an entourage of Northerners bearing Stark direwolf banners approaching the gates of King’s Landing. Jon decides to meet them first and is left aghast when Sansa tells him that he needs to hold a trial and _punish_ Daenerys for the war crimes and assume the title of the King of the seven kingdoms. He stares at her in disbelief and is about to name her an oathbreaker when Bran interrupts and informs that he has had visions and suspected that Daenerys might transform into the Mad King.

 

Pursing his lips, Jon nods and asks, “what would you have me do?” It is then that Arya draws a dagger from her belt and presses it into his palm. “There is no need for a trial, we all saw what happened here.” Jon stares flummoxed and Arya warns him direly, “you will do it or I shall or someone else will. You know she won’t survive her _sins_.” She tells him that she was amidst the war and destruction, she tells him of the babes she saved from the dragon’s wroth only to watch them get crushed under the stone walls of the city. She tells him of the women who were raped before being butchered in cold blood. She tells him many stories, none that he does not relive in the darkness of night, none that he has forgotten. Those wails and screams have haunted him since the day they took over the city. “I agree,” he says and leaves the rest unsaid. “But what about the kingdom? I shall not take the throne or any titles.”

 

It is then Sansa interrupts, “I have lived here and with Bran and Arya’s help, we all can restore house Stark to its rightful place.”

 

Jon acquiesces quietly. Once outside, he commands the Unsullied to not let any of the northerners leave their chambers and ensure they are confined until the queen has made her decision. With that, he heads towards Dany with a dagger hidden inside his cloak.

 

“Dany” he finds her hunched on a desk, her skin pale as snow, eyes sunken and surrounded by the darkness of the ghosts that haunt her. Jon places his hand on her shoulder. She flinches at his touch and Jon immediately moves his hand away. He drops on both knees and looks into her eyes to find some semblance of love that he himself has burned long before the fateful day that had come a moon’s turn ago. “Do you sometimes wish to leave this behind and escape? To someplace where no one recognizes you, where you can just be Dany and not the queen?”

 

She searches for truth in his eyes and she finds it. Jon is many things but a liar he is not. Tears well in her eyes and she tries to keep her voice as steady and calm as she can. “Sometimes, I do. But.. I cannot leave the people … I cannot let them down once again.”

 

“Dany” Jon blinks away the images that haunt him because he finally realizes that she is the only family he has and she needs to hear this from him “the people will not return your love, they… the memories of what has happened will be impossible to erase from their minds. All the good you did for humanity by saving them from the Long Night may not find its way into everyone’s ears but _this_ will.”

 

She ignores him and wants to return to work.

 

“You do not leave the Keep, you do not meet any people. Why?” Jon asks.

 

“I have been occupied. There is so much to do. There are orphan children, the maimed, ..burnt..” she speaks softly like she does not want to say it. “It’s imperative I find resources for them and mayhaps some moons later, I shall visit them.” Her eyes betray her words and she feels sad from within.  

 

“Say it, Dany. Tell me why do you not meet the people? The truth this time.”

 

She thinks the people do not deserve to see her after what they have suffered at her hands but she is too proud to show her weakness. “I have spoken the truth.” She tells him, staring squarely into his eyes and it is then that Jon pulls out the dagger and he feels dismayed to find that for a moment he finally sees a glimmer of hope in her eyes. Perhaps she wants him to put her out of her misery as much as he wants her out of it.

 

“I once promised you I won't ever betray you; there is something you must know.” He then tells her.

 

She takes the dagger from his hand and brings it to her chest.

 

 

 

 

“It is done,” Jon tells the Starks and quietly stretches the blood-soaked dagger apologizing for their confinement. His eyes are sad and fixed on the flagstones when he tells them how it was Dany’s idea to imprison them and how he has avenged the good people of King’s Landing. He vows on his mother and the Stark honor that it is the Targaryen blood on the knife and he speaks the truth when he tells them that he stood like a mute spectator as the life drained out of her eyes.

 

Jon apologizes he could not come to them sooner, he tells them that the Dothraki and the Unsullied had to be dealt with. He then kneels near Bran and stares into his Tully blue eyes. “Bran, the soldiers I have chosen are _loyal_ ” he stresses “and they will keep you and Sansa _safe_ while I return North” there a warning in his tenor and Bran does not miss it. Jon cannot help but smile cruelly even though he knows that he has doomed those brave soldiers but there is no one else he can trust besides her Unsullied.

 

“I must retire to the Wall and atone for my sins. I'm a kinslayer and queenslayer, an oathbreaker. People deserve someone better.” he tells his _family_. He tells them that the Iron Islands and Dorne are no longer a part of the seven kingdoms. He tells Sansa he trusts her and regrets that Robert’s great bastard Edric Storm had returned and the men who had known him since birth have proclaimed him the _true_ Lord of Storm’s End. He tells her that Daenerys gave them her consent in exchange for precious food and other aid the kingdoms have provided. He remembers to tell her that she would be a good ruler, _Dany wanted him to._ And he hopes Sansa can see the lie in his words.

 

In the yard of what was once Maegor’s holdfast, a large funeral pyre is lit for the daughter of the mad king who saved the realm from the ice monsters but could not save herself from the madness that lived in her blood. Jon can feel the back of his eyes burn and his heart aches when the silver locks of hair are caught in the flames. He once loved her hair, he remembers how soft they were when he carded his fingers in them. He thinks of the last time he had breathed hotly into them and let go. He delves into his soul, asking himself if he still loves her. He does not know yet but he knows this - he hates himself for throwing away everything that was good in his life. _And for what ?_   He wonders.

 

 

 

 

She’s huddled beneath the large cloak and is shivering with cold. Jon removes his own furs and covers her with it, taking her down to the paltry, inconspicuous cabin he has slated for them on the merchant ship but she still shivers and Jon thinks it’s not the cold that wracks her. She is quiet for a time and begins to feel relief when they have sailed far away from the waters of Westeros.

 

 

 

“The Dothraki would have reached near the great grass seas.” She murmurs as she tends to a deep wound around his arm with a salved linen. It had festered during the journey and reeked of puss and rot. So much so, Jon feared he may lose his hand but Daenerys has the touch of a maege.

 

“Aye. The Unsullied sail towards the bay of Dragons. A few insisted they would remain with you.”

 

“Jon” she calls his name lovingly for the first time in many moons “I must do this alone.”

 

He remains silent for a long time. “If you wish. Allow me to stay with you for a moon’s turn and when I know..”

 

“That I won’t burn another city to the ground?” she asks in a feeble voice.

 

“No” he replies sincerely “when I know you have regained strength, I shall leave.” He looks at her and worries for her - she’s pale and fragile and drapes herself in clothes too large for her, and a cloak that swallows her petite frame.

 

“I’m a monster. I don’t deserve your kindness.” She tells him.

 

“So am I.,” he says. He does not care anymore. If she is guilty, so is he and so is everyone else who has brought her there.

 

 

 

He is tired of fighting and Lys is a peaceful place. He understands their tongue and with Dany’s help, soon learns to read their letters and finds work at a merchant’s seat inside the city walls. He keeps books and tells the merchant of the wonderous pelts he could trade with the Westerosi Kingdom beyond the Wall. Soon the coin he shall earn will be more than enough for the two of them. Her Unsullied find work as shields in the rich traders’ homes. But they take turns and guard their queen when Jon is not there.  

 

The precious gems and gold she has with her will last her a lifetime but Jon insists that she does not sell them,

 

“I have no need for jewels.” She says.

 

“Then save them for when I won’t be around.” He tells her.

 

 

 

 

A moon passes and Jon does not leave. Jon doesn’t intend to leave. Neither does she ask him to.

 

They live under the same roof and yet, he only watches her from afar because she won’t let him near. She hates me, he thinks. He tries to remember if she has ever been this _quiet_. She does not write letters or read any tomes any more. She does not speak much either.

 

Until one day.

 

“I’m with child.” She sets the cloak aside and tells him. His jaw slackens and before he can say anything, she cuts him off with her terse words “I do not want anything of you and I do not wish to marry. Essos does not know bastardy. If you choose, the babe will know who his father is but that does not bind you to us in any way.”

 

He wishes to know how long has she known and why could she not tell him sooner but in his heart he knows the answer. He thinks back to so many battles she has fought and _knows_ that she was with child even then. It aches to think of it and he fears his words shall mar the last of amity that is left between them.

 

“If that is your wish, I would not force it upon you. However, I’d very much like to be a part of your lives if you’ll have me.” He moves closer and gathers her in his arms.

 

“There is nothing else in my life, nothing that makes me want to live. You are all I have left,” he tells her at last. He can finally say those words to her and show her how he feels. He has made his choice and he has made peace with it.

 

He sees what he wants to believe is love and that is enough for him. _It is enough,_ he thinks. It will sustain him for the rest of his life.

 

“I was helpless.” She tells him stoically and Jon looks at her in confusion. “That day, atop the gates of King’s Landing.. when… when I..” tears begin staining her cheeks then. “There was something inside me. Madness. Now I know, it’s in our blood and I fear for my babe. Will she be as mad as me and my father before me?”

 

“What was it Dany? Tell me.” Jon’s brows furrow at her words and he takes her face in his palms and asks.

 

“Something that pushed me, it wanted to take hold of my body and I fought. I swear to all gods Jon, I fought it, I bit my tongue, I tried to claw at it.." she pushes the sleeves of her robe above her arms and it was ridden with scars that have turned pale silver in time, "and I had nearly pushed it away.” She wipes her tears and looks at him with the innocence of a babe. “I am a dragon, no one can enslave a dragon. But then.. “ Dany’s eyes darkened in rage and widened in fear “..that thing, that voiceless thing warned me that if I fought, I’ll lose my babe. So I did not fight it anymore… I was there and I wasn’t..” She lowers her eyes, breaking down into sobs once again and Jon catches her before her knees buckle under the weight of admittance. He then hoists her in his arms and carries her to the bed.

 

He shushes her but she weeps inconsolably. Jon fetches water and hugs her tighter, telling her it was not her fault, that he would have done the same if he ever had to choose between his babe and the rest of the world. And it was there, _the bitter truth_. Between her sobs and her words, his mind wanders to his life back at the Wall, to Orell and his eagle, to his time spent inside Ghost. He finally thinks of the greenseer, _Bran_... He does not want to believe what his mind was telling him. His jaw tightens and his hands curl in fists as he stares at Longclaw leaning in a corner. He misses Rhaegal like never before, he wants to tear down every castle and keep in Westeros.

 

He tells her everything he suspects and Dany hears him with disbelief. “All of this… for what? Power?” she asks him.

 

“I wish I knew.” The truth of his words is in the sincerity of his eyes and the helplessness of his voice. “Dany, do you know where Drogon went?” he then asks.

 

“No, I don’t. But I can feel his presence in my bones. On some nights I can feel him in the skies above our home. I know he is well.”

 

Jon runs his fingers in her hair that has started to grow back and kisses the top of her head. “Don’t let the tether between you and Drogon break. Keep your dragon close, Dany.”

 

There is new life that is taking form inside her and she does not wish for that life to suffer anymore or to turn her heart into a smoldering ruin, full of unquiet ghosts that she has been trying to run away from. She lets it all go, for her unborn babe's sake. She banishes the ghosts to a graveyard and hopes that the dead stay dead and not come to haunt her as they do now.

 

He has a family to protect and he shall not fail them again. _Ever_. “My love has failed you once, but if you can, trust me this one last time.” _Trust my hatred and rage._

 

She searches his eyes, searches for hesitation she had last seen but it’s no longer that. There’s pain and anger but no qualm. When his gaze travels below, to the swell that is no longer hidden under the cloak, tears pool in his eyes. “I’m to be a father,” he says aloud, disbelieving. He would have hated and cursed himself at that moment if not for her hand that brushes his beard and her thumb that wipes his tears. “Aye, you’re going to be a father.”

 

“Maester?” he wants to know if she has seen one.

 

“No one knew. Only Missandei and mayhaps Greyworm. When she… after I lost her, there was no one who knew, no one I could trust.”

 

“I shall inquire and take you to see one tomorrow. Is there anything I can do for you? Just say it…” Jon runs his hands in his hair and leaving her side, begins pacing the room. He wants to punch a hole in the wall for being her downfall and for not being there for her sooner, _much sooner_.

 

“I need you to stop fretting.” She tells him but does not reach out to him. Jon does. He draws her into him and does not ask her if it was alright to kiss her. He does not seek permission before he collapses against her and kisses every sliver of her skin. He makes her moan and whimper. She says ‘yes’ and ‘Jon’ and never ‘no’. He’s taking the last of her and she gives freely and willingly.

 

She lies awake wondering if he will regret it when the sun rises and she will wake up alone in this bed when he will be gone. The dying candle flickers and fades leaving her in darkness, alone, walking the soundless ruins of her heart.

 

At the zenith of darkness, she feels his arm around her middle and Jon reassures her with his love. She can close her eyes now, she thinks. Jon’s chest is her refuge and his fingers are slowly weaving her back into existence.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I'd like to believe that Jon will avenge her. I don't know how and I don't know when, but he will. 
> 
> Anyway, I love Jonerys and in my alternate reality, they are happy and content. Their children are beautiful, speak a mix of common tongue and Valyrian. They have silver hair of their mama & dark eyes of their dad. Jon spoils them rotten and Dany has to do all the disciplining. She hates it but much rather prefers Jon to be the perfect loving parent and she be the uncool one who is always lecturing on rights and wrongs.
> 
> Karma has finally caught up with the Starks and they're paying for being dicks to Dany and Jon. Winterfell is a dump and I wish Dany had never gone there.


End file.
